


Bad End

by maliwanhellfire



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Character Study, M/M, Trespasser Spoilers, major angst, shoot me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-10
Updated: 2015-09-10
Packaged: 2018-04-20 01:43:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4768856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maliwanhellfire/pseuds/maliwanhellfire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I like having an article at the front," He says. "It makes it sound like I'm not even a person."</p><p>He doesn't mean to live up to it, but he knows there's power in names.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bad End

**Author's Note:**

> I just...  
> I hope I never write anything for this scenario ever again.
> 
> Big fucking Trespasser spoilers, you were warned.

"Ashkaari," Tama says. "Come over here."

Ashkaari leaves the other children to hide and seek. He's not too fond of the game. It's difficult to hide when your horns stick out the way his do. He's much better at freeze tag; he always knows when someone's about to turn toward him. 

His Tama is standing with a very tall, very serious-looking man. Ashkaari smiles at him, even though he has a sword and looks a bit scary. 

"Hm," The man says. "How old?"

"Ten," Tama replies.

"Big for his age."

"Yes," Tama says, and though her face is smooth, Ashkaari can see the tension around her eyes. 

The man crouches a little, so his face is level with Ashkaari's. He looks right into Ashkaari's eyes, and Ashkaari blinks no faster or slower than he did before. He's not scared. 

"I'll come back in six months," The man says, standing. "But I think you're right, he'd be a good fit with us."

Tama nods and the man leaves. Her shoulders slump once he's out of sight. 

"Who was he?" Ashkaari asks.

"No one," Tama replies, and there's a weight to it, it doesn't feel like she's fobbing him off. 

She puts her hand on Ashkaari's shoulder. 

"Maybe..." She begins, before cutting herself off. 

"Maybe what?" He asks. 

She sighs, with eyes that are very dark and very sad. She does not answer. 

 

\---

 

The Iron Bull screams when the flail hits his eye. He feels something like pressure releasing, and he knows he's fucked. It hurts, worse than mage fire or a cracked rib. Bull knows it's mostly psychological, so he takes the intensity and diverts it. He fuels it into anger. 

He grabs the nearest man by the head and brains him against the table. The two behind him, the ones who had been holding the boy down, are made slow by surprise. They don't even have their swords out, but Bull has his axe in his hand. 

The one on the left loses his hand in the first swing. The other takes the brunt right across his face. Bull feels the bones crack as he follows through, stepping back and away to protect where he's left his stomach open. He needn't have bothered. Both go down, one screaming and the other unconscious. It's pathetic. They don't have the will to fight honorably. Bull spits at their feet. 

"Hey, kid," Bull asks, turning towards the boy, who now has table knife clenched in one hand. 

That's good. Resourceful. Bull approves. 

"Yes?" The boy asks.

"What's your name?"

"It's uh, it's Cremisius," He says.

"I'm gonna call you Krem," Bull says.

And he does. 

 

\---

 

Sometimes Krem calls him 'Old Cow' with deep fondness. Like he's some dry milker left out in a field, that no one has the heart to slaughter. 

 

\---

 

"I like having an article at the front," Bull says. "It makes it sound like I'm not even a person."

 

\---

 

"So they're the Chargers and you're the Bull," Dorian says. "That's clever."

 

\---

 

He's never much cared for 'Vints. They're small and arrogant, and easily manipulated. They just  _feel_ so much, and so keenly, without any reservation. Krem has never taken anything from Bull that he did not give back in equal or greater amount. Not insults or nicknames, certainly not effort. 

"You work too hard," Bull says, one night over a few too many beers. 

Normally Krem would deflect, ask if Bull's working in his own best interests, or tell him he's just lazy and can't tell the difference. This time he doesn't.

"You saved my life, Chief," Krem says. "I'll never be able to repay you."

Bull feels an abstract hurt bloom in his chest. He knows a little about where Krem came from, and why he ran away. It should disgust him, the way Krem cut his ties with the people who gave him life, just to pledge himself to someone who stopped someone else from ending it. It doesn't, though. All Krem wants is to be as he is, and with Bull, he has that. 

He thinks maybe Krem would have done well, had he been born under the Qun. 

"Such a sap," Bull says, after just too long a pause. 

"You would know," Krem says, raising his glass.

 

\---

 

Bull meets Dorian Pavus and knows he could destroy him. He's like a cat, puffed up to make itself look bigger, fragile boned once you're past the claws. More than that, he believes a little of his own hype, knows that he is beautiful and talented and clever. He's soft, though, and damaged. Someone hurt him bad enough that he's careful with anyone who looks vulnerable. Bull knows he sat with Roderick until he died. 

It would be so easy to turn the knife, if he had to. He's not sure he wants to. 

But he still lays the seeds. 

 

\---

 

Dorian lets him. 

The arch of his back, shining with sweat. Bull asks and he says 'yes'. Bull holds him down and measures him up and fucks him until he is screaming. But he's not passive. He curls his hands around Bull's horns, bites down on the meat of Bull's shoulder when he gets rough. He looks right into Bull's eyes, like prey animal with a predator it's never seen before. 

 _Poor fool_ , Bull thinks,  _you should be careful._

Bull likes him, but Bull's life is not about himself. It can't be. Shouldn't be. He is what he is, he plans ahead. 

Dorian lets him.

 

\---

 

Krem won't stop smiling at him. 

"What?" Bull asks. 

"Mmmmm," Krem says. 

" _What?_ " He asks again, letting some annoyance bleed through. 

"You and the mage," Krem says. "The 'Vint mage."

Bull growls, lightly. 

"He's  _loud_ when you give him head," Krem says, waggling his eyebrows. 

"Everyone is loud when  _I_ give head, Krem," Bull replies. "Maybe you need to practice more."

"Hey Chief," Krem says.

"What?"

"I know you hate Tevinter but... I think it's pretty fair to say..." Krem's face is scrunching up with mirth.

"No," Bull says.

"I think it's fair to say you've got a little 'Vint in you now," Krem says, and then he starts cackling. 

Bull pushes him off his chair. 

 

\---

 

The mood that night is somber. The casks all put away, the tavern quiet. Some of the serving girls are behind the bar, in the back room crying. Bull doesn't drink. Bull doesn't eat. No one speaks to him, which is good, because he thinks he'd hurt them if they did. 

He sits in the space left by old voices, he lets it sink in. He did as the Qun demanded. He served as he was meant to, anything else would have been betrayal, anything else than  _what he did_. 

The Iron Bull goes to bed early that night. 

 

\---

 

"I'm so sorry," Dorian says, next time The Iron Bull sees him.

And he does look very sorry, and sad, and hurt, and open. The Iron Bull feels something take root, so he nurtures it. Dorian, being that he is a fool, lets him.

 

\---

 

"Horns pointing up," Cole says.

 

\---

 

It hurts even though it shouldn't. Bull dreams he blows the horn. The Iron Bull lives with the fact that he did not. 

 

\---

 

The Iron Bull remembers to keep it separate, builds the walls and shores the dams. 

"Even the lowliest peasant may find freedom in the safety of her thoughts. You take even that."

"When we fight, you make them not people."

"It's belief, innit?"

He educates himself. 

 

\---

 

In his mind's eye he says the words. Hello and goodbye, and great, and Kadan. He practices laughing where no one else could possibly hear, save Cole. Cole is the important one. If he wants to make it work, he needs to get past him. He makes them all not-people, until nothing hurts. 

He becomes smooth, like a stone in a river. He becomes smooth, he becomes stone. 

 

\---

 

"I love you," Dorian says.

The Iron Bull is pleased. He can use this. 

"I love you too," He says.

 

\---

 

Adaar cries when she puts her knife to his throat and ends him. Dorian looks as if he's the one who has been cut, betrayed again, and maybe worse this time, with Halward gone as well. He'll be unstable for a long time. 

He did what he was supposed to, and it's a relief to know the task is done. It's finally over, for him.

Cole says, "I didn't feel it. There wasn't any pain."

Everything fades out.

 

\---

 

"Who was he?" Ashkaari asks.

"No one," Tama replies.

 

 


End file.
